We're celebrating Easter here today. So this is the written equivalent of chocolate bunnies and marshmallow peeps. In other words: Pure fluff.
Inspired by spoilers for 219:
What if the dual polygraph forces Jeller to reveal feelings they've been trying to hide?
He nearly missed her.
Jane was on her way out of the NYO when Weller caught up to her at the elevator, slipping inside just before the doors closed.
"Can I give you a ride home?" he asked.
"No. I'm good, thanks." A polite smile flitted across her face, but she didn't quite meet his eyes as she spoke.
"Jane… We should talk. About today."
She'd changed out of her red outfit back into her own clothing after they'd gotten back from the op, and now she shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and hunched her shoulders. "We don't have to. We can just pretend today never happened."
Part of him wanted to believe she was right and that they could. But things were already awkward between them, and he didn't see that getting any better.
"I'd feel better if we talked," he said grimly.
The elevator doors opened. Jane drew in a breath and then followed him out into the parking garage.
Neither of them spoke until they were inside his SUV. It was going to be an uncomfortable enough conversation; he'd be damned if they started it where anyone in the FBI could overhear. The report he'd filed was deliberately vague on the details, but he knew it was still damning enough.
Jane still wouldn't look at him. She buckled her seat belt and looked out the windshield in front of her.
"I'm sorry," he said, abandoning the careful words he'd rehearsed.
"I know," she whispered. She finally turned to look at him. "I'm not going to hold you to anything you said under duress."
And even though the tone of her voice was flat, her eyes looked…. sad?
"You know it's true," he pointed out.
She gave a tiny shake of her head. "It doesn't matter."
Ouch. That hurt.
He gave a curt nod. "I just…. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me."
She heaved a small sigh. "I don't. I mean, I won't. I know it doesn't change anything." She swallowed and looked down at her hands in her lap. "If you'd wanted me to know, you'd have said something…. before."
"And when was I supposed to do that? While you were dating Oliver?"
At the growl in his words, she drew back, blinking in surprise.
"Look," he said, more quietly. "I just want you to be happy. And I know you…. don't feel the same. And you don't need to feel bad about that or worry that I'm going to do anything to make things awkward."
He looked out across the parking garage, schooling his features into neutrality. "We're friends. And that's more important." The fact that he was in love with her– and that she knew it now– was irrelevant. Had to be irrelevant. "Okay?" He finally worked up the nerve to look back at her.
He couldn't read the expression on her face. She looked torn between concern and amusement.
"Kurt," she said slowly, "you do know that part of the training I received was how to beat polygraphs."
He looked at her, uncomprehending.
When he didn't say anything, she said bluntly, "I lied."
He blinked. "You– lied?"
She nodded, green eyes solemn and locked on his.
He tried to wrap his brain around what he thought she was telling him. "So you…" She'd gone first. She'd said she didn't have any feelings for him. And the polygraph announced True. But if she'd lied…. "Why?"
She swallowed. "Because I was sure you'd say no, and it would be true."
"But after…?"
Her gaze fell then, away from his. "You didn't want to tell me." Her eyes flashed green at him again. "And I didn't want you to tell me if you didn't want to. If you were only saying it because you were forced into it."
He drew a deep breath and turned his whole torso to face her. "I'm not being forced to say anything right now," he pointed out. "So… if I were to tell you… Would you want to hear it?"
She looked at him, eyes wide and the look in them almost frightened. But she nodded and whispered, "Yes."
He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "I love you. I'm in love with you, Jane."
She blinked rapidly, her eyes overly bright and shiny. "I love you too."
He had a moment where he felt like he couldn't breathe at all. But she didn't move, didn't shake her head and tell him it wasn't true. So he leaned toward her, slowly, still half afraid she'd change her mind.
She met him halfway. They both stopped, so close that he could feel the warmth from her breath against his cheek. And then they leaned the fraction of an inch more that it took to bring their lips together.
Her lips were soft and tentative against his, but she didn't pull away, leaning as close to him as the armrest of the SUV would allow. He took his time, learning the shape of her lips, the curve of her mouth. He reached up to cup her face in his hand, trace the line of her cheekbone with his thumb.
And then a car door slammed, the sound reverberating through the garage, and he remembered where they were. He drew back slightly, her mouth following his, both of them reluctant to end the kiss.
Her eyes were closed. They blinked open, misty and so very dear to him, and he resisted the urge to lean in again.
"We should go," he said.
"Oh." It was little more than a soft disappointed exhalation.
He stroked his thumb against her cheek again before forcing himself to let go. "We missed dinner. Can I take you out? There has to be something still open."
She bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."
He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "You should probably text Roman. Tell him you'll be late."
She smiled then, a genuine smile that reached all the way to her eyes. She tilted her head to the side. "How late?" she asked in a playful voice.
"I'm going to want to kiss you goodnight," he informed her. He wanted to kiss her good morning too, but they had time. "So… pretty late."
She squeezed his hand. "That sounds good to me."
He glanced around, but the lot was pretty empty, so he leaned in again for a swift kiss, before letting go of her hand so he could start the engine.
He glanced over at her as he maneuvered out if the parking space. Her eyes were sparkling as though something amused her.
"What?" he asked her, helplessly smiling back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years, maybe ever.
She shrugged, still smiling, twisting in her seat and drawing her legs up so she could sit facing him. "Just… happy."
He flashed her a quick smile and reached out to capture her hand again. "Me too."
And that was completely the truth.